


Mademoiselle Tholomeyes

by Parnasse



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Background Les Amis de l'ABC, Enjolras Has Feelings, F/M, Les Amis de l'ABC - Freeform, Les Mis Across History, Minor Enjolras/Grantaire, Multi, On The Barricade, Young Enjolras
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-10 23:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parnasse/pseuds/Parnasse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a fic about a character I made up named Philippine who is Felix Tholomeyes's daughter and has a twin brother named Philippe. But her father abandoned them and later Philippe went missing when Philippine was ten years old. So, Philippine had to live by herself. However, everything changes when she meets Enjolras.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Philippine had another nightmare. And they weren't the kind of nightmares most people have. They were so twisted and disturbing that she couldn't even describe them. She had been having nightmares frequently since her father and her twin brother, Philippe went missing. Philippine's father abandoned her and her brother when they were eight years old. Two years later, Philippe went to look for their father. But he never came back. Now she lives alone in her house.

She never got to know her mother either. Her father left her and took the twins with him. When she'd ask her father why they couldn't see their mother again, he'd always answer, "You wouldn't understand."

Now Philippine is fourteen years old. Frankly, she's not sure how she survived for so long with no one else to take care of her. Well, there was her friend Marius who brought her some food and kept her company every now again. But she had no family. Or at least she didn't know where they were.

Philippine sat up in her bed and looked out the window. She squinted when the morning sun shone in her eyes. She was glad it was morning. If it was night time, she would have had to stay in the darkness that surrounded her while the thoughts of her horrific nightmare terrorized her. When she has nightmares in the morning, she forgets about it instantly. Philippine stood up and went downstairs into the kitchen. The only food she could find that was adequate for breakfast was an apple and some bread that Marius gave her the other day. She cut up the bread into little slices and did the same with apple. She took a bite out of an apple slice and thought of Marius. She liked his freckles. He was Philippine's only friend. Well there was that other boy named Montparnasse who she would talk to sometimes. But she wasn't sure if they were friends.

When she was done with her breakfast, Philippine went back up to her room to get dressed. She put on a brown dress which was a little torn on the right sleeve. She didn't care; she liked that dress. Then, Philippine brushed her wavy, dark brown hair and tied it into a ponytail with a red ribbon. She found the ribbon when a wealthy looking girl dropped it in the street. Philippine picked it up and was about to bring it back to the girl. But she decided to keep it for herself.

Since Philippine was low on food, she decided to go to the market. She took some francs which Marius gave her. She felt bad when he first gave her money. But he says his family is wealthy so he doesn't mind and he's sympathetic for the poor people of France. Philippine liked that about him.

It was a long walk to the market. But Philippine didn't mind. She liked taking long walks because it helped her daydream. It also helped her forget about her father and her twin brother. Half way through her walk, she saw a man and a woman holding hands. They looked wealthy, but they didn't look like those kinds of people who marry for money. They looked in love. Philippine started to think about finding true love. She wondered when she would find the right person. What if she never found the right person? She swore to never marry for money. Philippine always wondered how those people sleep at night. Then she remembered that she never slept very well.

She finally got to the market and bought some apples, some croissants, some bread, and some milk. The friendly customers always greeted her. She knew everyone's names: Victor, Claude, Marie-France, Therese. Philippine liked people liked them. We need more friendly people in the world, she thought.

She took the long journey home and couldn't wait to lie down. Her feet were killing her from all that walking. At last, her house was straight ahead. But she stopped short when she saw a suspicious-looking group of men by her house. Most people who saw strangers by their house would have said "Get away from my here!" or "This isn't your property! Leave at once!" But Philippine wasn't a fighter. She didn't like to be bothersome. Those men look like thieves, she thought. Philippine always assumed that suspicious-looking people were thieves because there were so many in France. She was especially nervous because she had a basket full of groceries in her hands. She didn't want to be seen by them. So, she slowly tried to sneak in through the back door.

They saw her.

"Hey, where are you going?" one of them shouted.

Philippine's heart stopped.

"Merde, merde, merde, merde, merde." Philippine whispered to herself.

She slowly turned around and looked at the intimidating men. She tried to say something but she didn't make a sound.

The one who seemed to be the leader of the "gang" said, "We asked you a question, Mademoiselle."

"To my house." Philippine said weakly.

The men laughed. "Oh, this is your house!" the leader said.

Philippine just stared at them wanted to run away.

"Can we have that little basket of yours?" a tall one said.

Philippine looked at her basket with the food she bought from the market in it. Then looked back at the gang.

"No." she said.

They laughed again. Then, the leader spoke once more.

"You see, little girl. I don't think you know who we are," he said, "We're the Patron-Minette, Mademoiselle. And we always get what we want."

Philippine didn't know what else to do. So, she ran past them. When, she got to the street, she fell to the ground dropping her groceries. The gang tackled her. Two of them picked up her groceries and fled while the other two kept her down.

One of them whispered to her, "If one word is spoken to the police, you're dead."

Suddenly, one of the men punched the poor girl in the face. Then, they started kicking her. Philippine tasted blood in her mouth. Finally, the gang fled with her groceries. She saw a crowd of people standing around her, but no one helped. After a minute or two, the crowd dispersed.

Philippine couldn't believe what happened. She was punched and kicked. Just because she had food? Not only that, but nobody bothered to help. This is France, she thought this is what our country has come to. Somebody needs to do something. Somebody needs to help the poor and stop the thieves.

"Will nobody help this poor girl?" Philippine heard a manly voice say.

Surprised, she looked up and saw a blond haired boy walking towards her looking concerned. Finally, somebody came to her rescue. She was relived. But then she realized that he could be another thief. Nobody can be trusted.

The boy knelt down to meet her bruised face, "Do you need help?" he said.

Philippine thought the boy was handsome. He had long blond hair which he kept in a ponytail. And he didn't have those cliché blue eyes that most blond people have; he had dark, brown eyes which looked brighter in the light. But handsome or not, she couldn't trust anybody.

"Yes." She said.

"I can take you to the hospital if you like." The boy replied.

"I-I don't know." Philippine said weakly.

"Are you sure?" he said.

There was a long pause. Philippine stared at the boy, intimidated.

"I don't know if I can trust you." She said finally.

The boy felt terrible. He wanted to help the beaten girl. She must have been through a lot he thought.

"I won't harm you, I promise. I just want to help." He said softly.

Philippine didn't say anything. She just wanted this day to end.

"If somebody doesn't take you to the hospital soon," he said, "I'm afraid you might die out here."

"I'm not that badly hurt. I-"

"Please." He cut her off. He tried to smile to seem less intimidating.

Philippine sighed and finally agreed. The boy picked her up but she objected.

"No its fine, I can walk." She said.

Reluctantly, he put her down. Philippine suddenly felt dizzy and collapsed back into the boy's arms.

"I think I should carry you." He said.

Philippine nodded and the boy picked her up again.

"My name is Enjolras by the way." The boy said slightly smiling.

Philippine tried to smile back and said "My name's Philippine."

"Philippine," Enjolras reiterated, "That's a lovely name."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Enjolras takes Philippine to the hospital and she tells her story. Enjolras feels bad and wants to help her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is chapter 2. I'll post chapter 3 soon. Please comment if there's anything I can do better.

Philippine blushed at Enjolras's comment. She never liked her name, but she liked the nickname that Montparnasse gave her which was "Pippa." She always thought that her parents named her Philippine just to go with her twin brother's name.

Great. Now she was thinking of her brother.

"Really? I don't like it." She replied weakly, still in excruciating pain.

"How come?" the blond said.

"I don't know it's just different. It's weird."

Enjolras laughed. "Well try having a name like Enjolras. It's not even my first name you know."

"Oh…well what is your first name?" Philippine asked.

"I don't have one." Enjolras said bluntly.

Philippine looked up at him in disbelief. "What?"

"My parent's never gave me one," he said "they…they never really cared about me."

There was a long pause.

"By the way, do your parents know you're hurt?" Enjolras asked.

"Well…no…um I kind of don't have parents really…" she stuttered.

She really has been through a lot Enjolras thought. His heart sank a bit. He was wealthy but he felt pity for people like her. Not many bourgeois feel sympathetic about the poor. He even left his parents because of their disgusting behavior towards them. Enjolras couldn't take it. He sees too many people suffering from poverty in France and he's always wanted to do something about it.

"Oh, that's terrible." He said "So you're an orphan then?"

"Not really. It's just that…I'm not quite sure where they are." Philippine explained.

Enjolras looked at her but said nothing.

"It's a long story." She continued.

"Well you can tell me later," he said. "We're at the hospital now."

Philippine was relieved when they arrived at the hospital. She was in so much pain, but she didn't want to admit it to Enjolras because she didn't want to make him feel bad for her. For some reason, Philippine didn't like it when people felt sorry for her. Everyone always wanted to help her or make her feel better or something. It just made her feel uncomfortable.

Enjolras carried Philippine into the hospital. Sister Simplice, a nun who worked there saw the blond haired boy carrying the beaten girl and rushed toward them. Philippine heard Enjolras telling the nun something put she wasn't paying attention to his words; she was mostly paying attention to his face. He was beautiful. He was tall and seemed to make the room brighter with his appearance. Also, on their way to the hospital she noticed that he had a hint of freckles right under his eyes. Enjolras didn't say how old he was, but Philippine couldn't tell if he was fifteen or twenty years old.

She heard Sister Simplice tell Enjolras to carry her into one of the rooms and put her in a bed. He nodded and took her into a room while the nun followed them. Philippine winced when he put her down on the bed. He made sure she was comfortable. Then, Sister Simplice told him that she and the other nuns will take care of her and told him to wait in the waiting room for a while. Enjolras glanced at Philippine for a second, then left the room.

He took a seat in the empty waiting room. Since it was quiet, it was easier for him to think. He thought about how dirty hospitals were. How are people supposed to get better in these conditions? Then, he thought of Philippine. What happened to her parents? Does she have anyone to take care of her? Why was she beaten up? Enjolras didn't want to think too much about the girl, but his mind kept going back to her. She was pretty, he had to admit. She had bright brown eyes and she was very skinny. Enjolras noticed she had a red ribbon in her hair. He liked the color red; the color of the revolution. But it's not like he'd ever fall in love with her. He was never interested in love and never paid much attention to women. He never knew what being in love felt like. Then he started to think about his parents. They never gave him the love that he needed (or a first name). They always told him how they never wanted children and how he was a mistake. His parents didn't have any other kids after that. Several months ago, he walked out on his family because he couldn't stand living with them anymore. Now he wanders the streets of Paris by himself.

Then a strange thought wandered into Enjolras's head, Have I ever been loved by anyone?

The thought vanished when Sister Simplice walked into the waiting room.

"You may see her now." She said softly.

Enjolras stood up and towered over the petite nun. He asked, "Is she going to be okay?"

"Yes. She just needs to stay in bed for a couple days."

Enjolras walked into her room, happy that she wasn't severely hurt. Then he realized that she probably doesn't have a bed to sleep in. He sighed.

The blond haired boy walked quietly into Philippine's room not wanting to startle her. When she saw him, she smiled coyly. Enjolras tried to smile back, but his smile came out as a smirk. Philippine had a bandage on her temple and some ice on the corner of her eye where she was punched.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm okay." She said.

Enjolras couldn't think of what else to say. There was a long silence.

“Who did this to you?” he finally said.

“I don’t know,” Philippine said, “They said they were a gang called the Patron-Minette and they wanted to take my groceries.”

“The Patron-Minette? Those bastards. They’re always causing trouble.” Enjolras ranted.

Philippine could see there was a flame in the boy’s eyes. A flame that didn’t seem to burn out. She could tell he was a passionate person. She stared at him absentmindedly for about a minute.

Enjolras remembered that he wanted to ask her something, "Oh yeah. So, what happened to your parents?" he inquired.

Philippine hated it when people asked her that. She never liked talking about her parents or her brother; she just wanted to forget about them. Philippine sighed and told her story.

"Well," she started, "I never really got to know my mother. At first my family and I lived in Toulon. Then, my father left my mother when me and my brother, Philippe, were two years old and took us with him to Montfermeil. Why? I don't know. A couple years later, he met another woman and got her pregnant, but he made us move again before the baby was born. You know that house you found me in front of? That's the house we moved to. I still live there now. One day, when we were eight years old, our father left the house and never came back. We thought he might have been killed, but we found a journal that he kept. He wrote…" Philippine fought back her tears, "…he wrote that he was 'leaving the children today' on the day he left us. We don't know what else he wrote because Philippe threw it into the fireplace in anger. When we were ten years old, Philippe told me he was going to look for our father. I told him it was a bad idea, but he didn't listen. He told me that if he doesn't come back in three days, I should call the police. The third day came. Philippe didn't come back. So, I ran to find the police. They told me they will do everything they can to find my brother. He's been missing for four years. They never found him."

Enjolras stared blankly at Philippine, showing no emotion even though he was heartbroken by her story. When he was sure she was finished he asked, "So, you just live alone now?"

She nodded, "Yes."

"So your brother left when you were ten, and you've been living by yourself for four years? That means you're fourteen?"

"Yes, that's how old I am."

Enjolras's countenance now showed a concerned expression, "But how do you support yourself?" he asked.

"Oh, my friend Marius brings me food and stuff." Philippine answered.

Enjolras couldn't believe that this girl had lived by herself for four years. He was so appalled by how her father just abandoned her and her brother, not caring about what would happen to them. How would she be able to take care of herself now that she was hurt? Enjolras just couldn't let her suffer alone…

"What if I stayed with you for a while?" he asked suddenly.

Philippine sat up slightly in her bed, stunned by his question. "What?"

"You can’t take care of yourself in this condition. What if I stayed with you at your house just for a short time?"

"But, I don't even know you that well," said Philippine remembering nobody can be trusted, "This is just really sudden. Don't you have a family?"

"Not quite. I ran away from my parents. Long story. And I understand if you’re uncomfortable with that but I can’t just leave you alone like this. How about I stay with you for only two days?"

Philippine thought for a moment. Enjolras seemed trustworthy, but she wasn't sure if she should let him into her house. What if he's actually a murderer and wants to kill her? Well, her life isn't that great, so dying wouldn't be so bad. But Philippine thought it would be nice to have company. After all, why would he have helped her if he wanted to kill her?

"Okay," she said, "But only for two days."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras is the best. Isn't he magnificent? Yeah so when I was writing the hospital scene, I didn't know if hospitals back in the 1800's had waiting rooms but I put that in anyway. So again please comment and tell me if there's anything you want to see or if I can do anything better.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a flashback of Philippine's childhood with her brother.

Philippine and Philippe were four years old. They now lived in Montfermeil with their father's new lover, Fantine. Fantine was very kind and caring. She was also very joyful, especially around Philippine and Philippe's father. The twins liked her, but they missed their mother. They didn't know why their father took them away from her. She did nothing wrong. Young Philippine had a doll that her mother gave her. She refused to go anywhere without it because it was the only thing she had left of her real mother. Her doll had brown hair that was in pigtail braids and wore a yellow dress with a yellow bonnet. Philippine even called her doll "mommy".

Fantine felt bad for the children. They weren't as attached to her as they were to their mother, which is understandable. She often took them for walks in the park so they could bond. The more they got to know each other, the more attached they got to Fantine. However, Philippe was more attached to Fantine than Philippine was. She was more reserved to her brother. But Philippine still liked Fantine very much.

"Philippe, look how sunny it is!" said little Philippine one day while looking out the window.

"Do you think Fantine will take us to the park today?" asked her twin brother.

"I don't know," She replied, "we already went there yesterday."

Philippe let out a disappointed sigh. Then, he ran up to their "stepmother's" room. Her door was open so he let himself in. He never went into Fantine's room when her door was closed without knocking. The last time that happened, his father and Fantine were in the bed together and they looked very shocked when the little boy saw them. His father told him to get out of the room and to knock next time. Philippe saw Fantine combing her long, brown hair. He hesitated, then asked her if they could go to the park.

"Please! It's so nice today!" he pleaded.

Fantine laughed "Well I don't see why not!"

"YAAAAY!" Philippe yelled while running to tell his sister of the great news.

Philippe jumped with joy when she heard that Fantine will take them to the park again. She loved to go to the park to run around and feed the ducks. Sometimes, Fantine would let the twins roll down that big hill in the park even though their father disapproved of it. She always brought a change of clothes that looked just like the clothes they left with so he'd never find out. They didn't afford a lot of nice clothes since they didn't have a lot of money. So, Fantine knitted most of the twins' clothing.

Fantine helped Philippine and Philippe put on their play clothes. When they were finally dressed, she packed their change of clothes since they'd probably beg to play on the hill. As they were just about to leave, the children's father stopped them.

"Going to the park again?" he said to his lover.

"Yes. It's very nice out today isn't it?" replied Fantine with a smile.

"Alright. But don't let them roll down that hill. They'll get dirt all over their clothes."

"Oh, of course not Felix." She winked at the twins and they tried to hold in their giggles.

Fantine and the children walked out the door feeling the warm, summer weather. Philippe and Philippine ran as fast as they could to the park to get there quicker while Fantine tried to catch up with them. Then, Philippine realized something: she forgot mommy. The little girl panicked, then told Fantine she forgot her dolly and ran back to the house. She was relieved when she found mommy sitting on her bed.

Philippine picked up her doll and said, "I would never forget you, mommy!" Then ran out of the house to catch up with Fantine and her brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw little Philippine and her dolly. I hope you liked this chapter. Comment if you want to see anything or if I can do anything better!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Enjolras takes care of Philippine and she is still not sure whether to trust him or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter ended kinda short but it took forever to write this because of school and stuff. But anyway i hope you enjoy it.

Enjolras took Philippine home a couple hours later. He remembered he had a tent set up in the woods which was where he slept. He needed to take it down and pack up his belongings so after he dropped Philippine off at her house, he departed to the woods. It was only a short walk away, but Enjolras tried to go quickly so Philippine wouldn’t be alone for too long.

Meanwhile, Philippine lay in her bed. She started to feel better after a while and was thankful for the boy that helped her. It was nice that he was so willing to take care of her. But the longer Enjolras was gone, the longer she began to worry. _What if he doesn’t really have a tent in the woods and he’s actually going to leave me alone? What if he gets hurt or even killed while he’s gone? What if he never comes back?_ Just when Philippine was about to have a panic attack, she heard somebody walk into the house. Then, she heard someone climbing up the stairs. Finally, she heard a knock on her bedroom door and a voice that yelled her name.

“Philippine? It’s Enjolras. Are you there?”

Philippine was relieved that he came back. “Yes. You can come in.” she said.

Enjolras walked in, closed the door behind him, and put his satchel on the floor.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Philippine shrugged and said, “I don’t know. A little better, I guess?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” the boy said somewhat sternly.

“Um…”

“Never mind,” he said before she could say anything more. “Do you need anything? Are you comfortable?”

“No, I’m fine thanks.”

Enjolras nodded and grabbed a stool that was in the corner of Philippine’s room.

“Mind if I sit here?”

“Yes…I mean, no you can sit there.” Philippine let out an awkward chuckle. Enjolras just stared at her blankly.

He put the stool next to her bed and took a seat. The boy was silent for a long time. Philippine felt nervous around him. He seemed so intimidating. Yet, he was charming and kind. She felt like she wanted to run away from him and hug him at the same time.

_He’s been really quiet_ , she thought after several minutes of silence, _should I say something_? Philippine pondered over the right thing to say, then she finally came up with something.

“So, why did you run away from your parents?” Philippine asked the boy.

Enjolras looked up and sighed and contemplated over where to begin with his story. Philippine feared that he didn’t like to be asked that question and that she had offended him. But her thoughts vanished when he began to speak.

“My parents just never cared about me.” Enjolras started. Philippine remembered he said that when he was carrying her to the hospital. “They would always tell me that they never wanted me. Which is idiotic because why would they have had sex to create me in the first place? Anyway, I detested the way they treated the poor. My father would spit on the homeless and my mother would laugh at the beggars. They thought they were better than them because they were rich and it saddens me that we actually have people like this in the world. It’s immoral! It’s disgusting! I told them I would rather sleep in the streets than stay with them. So, that’s what I did. And I don’t regret it the least.”

When Enjolras spoke, Philippine heard so much passion in his voice and saw flames in his eyes. She was so captivated by him that all she could say was “Wow” but she felt bad when she did because he said so much and she only replied with one simple word.

“I’ve been sleeping in the streets of Paris for three months now,” Enjolras continued. “It’s just me, my tent and my satchel.”

“Oh.” Philippine said looking at his light brown satchel from across the room. “What do you have in it?” It was a random question, but she didn’t want there to be an awkward silence again.

Enjolras got up and brought his satchel over by Philippine. He took out several books that must be about 600 pages long. They were all about politics and their titles were too complicated to remember.

“These books are for school.” Enjolras said. He gestured to the two biggest books he had, “And I borrowed these from my friend Combeferre. Remind me to give them back.”

“You go to school?” Philippine asked eagerly. Her parents never sent her or her brother to school and she always wanted to know what it was like. She would always ask Marius about school since he was a student, but he would always complain about boring lectures and stressful work.

Enjolras nodded. “I’m studying politics and law and things like that. My parents sent me to school because they wanted me to become a lawyer which I don’t mind actually. Being a lawyer seems like a decent job.”

He continued to show Philippine the other contents of his satchel which was a notebook, some francs (for emergencies only), and some clothes which included a plain white shirt, some pants, and a red jacket. Then, Enjolras noticed a doll that was that looked like it had been worn out over the years on the bed beside Philippine. He thought that she must have had it since she was a child. But Philippine seemed too old to be still playing with dolls. But then, Enjolras realized that it was probably the only thing she had to keep her company; the only “person” that was there for her in her darkest times when no one else was.

“You know Enjolras, you’re a pretty interesting person.” Philippine said just as he was about to ask her about the doll.

“Am I?” Enjolras replied.

“Of course. I mean, you left the comforts of your home to go live on the streets, you’re studying to become a lawyer, and you carried me all the way to the hospital. If you ask me, you’re quite remarkable.”

That was probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to Enjolras. He almost blushed.

“Well, thank you,” he said “you’re a pretty interesting person yourself.” Enjolras felt like he wanted to say more to Philippine, but he couldn’t find the right words to say. He didn’t like to show his emotions most of the time. When he was angry, however, he could easily express how he felt. But when it came to emotions like sadness, fear, or even angst, he’d bury them so deep he’d forget he’d ever felt those emotions.

Finally, night fell. Philippine told Enjolras that he could sleep in the bed next to hers. It used to be where her brother slept. Sometimes, she’d dream that her brother was still in that bed and they’d wake up together every morning and go about living their lives like nothing ever happened. When Enjolras was settled in his bed, Philippine decided she should tell him about her nightmares. She explained that she usually had a nightmare at least once a week and that he should not be alarmed if she woke up screaming.

“Well, don’t worry. If you need me just wake me up.” Was all he said. Then, Enjolras blew out the candle on the dresser that separated their beds, filling the room with darkness. 

This is the first time Enjolras has slept in a bed in a long time. He felt comfortable lying under the warm blankets, but he tried not to get too used to the coziness of sleeping indoors because Philippine may not want him to stay here.  He wouldn’t mind too much if he had to go back to the streets of Paris; he was accustomed to them anyway. It beat living with his parents, that’s for sure. Enjolras saw that the girl’s eyes were still open and staring at the ceiling. She was probably trying to avoid sleep, fearing that she may have a terrifying nightmare. Enjolras wasn’t very tired, so his mind had nothing else to do but wander. He thought of what an awful man Philippine’s father was. Not only did he degrade two women, but he abandoned his own children. Now one of them could possibly be dead and the other one has to live alone in poverty and fear. And on top of that, he left his second lover with a child to raise on her own. How is that woman going to support herself when the father is not present? It’s incredible how just one person can bring a world of misery on to someone else. All of this made Enjolras angry, so he attempted to fall asleep and about a half hour later, he succeeded.

Philippine stayed up much later than Enjolras. There was a lot on her mind and she was still experiencing a great deal of pain. She liked Enjolras. At times, she thought she should let him live with her because he lived in the streets. But she remembered again that nobody can be trusted. He didn’t seem to mind being homeless anyway. But Philippine kept getting the feeling that she really wanted him to stay. It was strange, but Enjolras’s presence made her feel…calm? No, safe. Wait, why would she feel safe around him if she wasn’t sure he was trustworthy? Nothing Philippine thought ever made sense. She wanted to stop thinking about everything, so she closed her eyes and at last, she fell asleep.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Enjolras. Constructive criticism is permitted here (haha permit) and compliments are especially welcome. Also, if you want to see something happen in this fanfic let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope you like this story. I'll probably update every weekend. Isn't Enjolras awesome? Also please comment if you have any constructive criticism or if you really liked it.


End file.
